


Day Six: Wearing Each Other's Clothes (AKA JESUS EFFING CHRIST, ALEC, KNOCK WILL YOU?)

by a_xmasmurder



Series: 30 Days of OTP: Bond/Q [6]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Elevator Sex, F/M, Foreplay, Frottage, Getting down and dirty, Hallway sex, M/M, Q's getting confused at all the THINGS going on, Wine Dine Take Back to Mine, implied foursome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/pseuds/a_xmasmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond can't keep his hands off of Q, and he doesn't mind because he's carb-loaded and ready to fuck. There's a minor problem, though...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Six: Wearing Each Other's Clothes (AKA JESUS EFFING CHRIST, ALEC, KNOCK WILL YOU?)

**Author's Note:**

> *shrugs* I don't...I can't even explain this right now. I can't. Alec will be a recurring character, but will mostly stay OUT of the bedroom. Mostly. *nods*
> 
>  
> 
> I blame being tired for this whole travesty, I'm sorry ~~notsorry~~

Q shifted in the chair, settling in comfortably after handling the wine order, feeling rather out of place in his only really good suit. “I’m not at all surprised that you got us an exclusive seat.”

Bond smoothed the front of his charcoal suit and smiled at the Quartermaster. “It wasn’t a problem. They know me here. They know what I like when I’m here in London. Alec and I come here often enough, and it seems they are used to jumpy government agents dropping by for tea.”

“Of course you would come here with him. When the two of you are within twenty feet of each other, you become limpets. It’s disturbing.”

Bond laughed, and nodded as the wine was poured. “We have a special bond.”

“And it’s frightening.”

“It isn’t. We are good friends.”

“Who happen to be attached at the hip.”

“As you say.” Bond’s smile turned a bit uncertain as he watched Q’s hands fidget with the cutlery. “I know this isn’t your usual fare, but I’m afraid one more night of take out would have my stomach demanding damage pay.”

Q’s eyebrows ticked up a bit. “Oh, I’m fine! I may not be as cultured and well-traveled as you, James Bond, but I do have my fair share of fine dining experiences.” He looked around a bit. They’d been put into the furthest corner, near the kitchen and multiple escape routes. The view included all doorways and windows, and his dinner companion sat at an angle that allowed him full access to not only his gun but also escape. “My usual is Japanese, if I go fancy.”

“Sushi?”

“Only the best.”

Bond’s face scrunched up in amusement. “You have a fetish for Asian, don’t you?”

“Possibly. I like the culture, too.” He took a sip of the wine, and smiled. “This is good. I made a good choice.”

“Oh, yes.” Bond nodded. “Tomorrow night, we can go to sushi.”

Q smiled back at him. “That would be perfect.”

********   
  
  
  


The dinner had been amazing, nothing that Q would recognize outside of the restaurant but was very pretty looking and exquisitely prepared and tasted brilliant - and now he was carb loaded, which he figured had been Bond’s plan all along, considering the hand that had been traversing his thigh and groin all the way to Bond’s rather lovely flat. They moved as one through the hotel lobby as if they owned the place - and with some appropriated funds from the Swiss bank account of some drug cartel kingpin in Miami he had permanent access to, he _could_ own this fucking place - and drove a vacationing American family away from the elevator banks with a very not safe for work public display of  “Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Bond, we are out in the lobby, will you keep your fucking hand off of my cock!”; though, to be completely honest, the oldest daughter might be a Tumblr user, considering her slack-jawed interest in the proceedings. Q gave her a wicked smirk and squeezed Bond’s arse, making the agent groan and bite his neck, just before the scandalized mother dragged her daughter away. The elevator doors opened and they walked in, the elderly lady operating the elevator giving them both a knowing look as she pressed the button for Bond’s floor. As soon as the doors slid shut, Bond dropped to his knees and tugged Q’s white dress shirt out of his pants, licking at each centimeter of skin bared to the bright overhead lighting. Q giggled and patted ineffectually at the agent’s head. “Not here, either, we’ve got company for God’s sake!” All that got out of Bond was a low growl, and it was the old lady who spoke up.

“I’m used to James beginning his conquest of hearts in the elevator, dear. A young man is new, but I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”

Q wanted to blurt out that 'God yes, Bond knows exactly what he was doing and _how_ ', but he stuttered out an apology instead and tightened his hands in the short blond hair on top of Bond’s head. “Sorry, so s-s-sorry, oh _hell_ Bond!” He yelped and tugged when the man nipped at the sensitive skin of his hip - _oh God, my trousers are undone, damn it!_ \- and whined plaintively at the ceiling at the sheer embarrassment of having it off with one of the hottest men in London as someone pointedly did NOT watch...

The elevator stopped smoothly, and the lady - Q finally noticed her name tag (Ester) - smiled at them. “Here is your stop, Mr. Bond.”

Q couldn’t get him off the damned elevator fast enough, and it was only a few steps until they got to Bond’s flat, but the agent slammed him up against the solid oak doorway and growled at Q before dropping his head to Q’s neck to nip and bite and tongue at the pale skin and Q stopped caring that they weren’t in bed or even somewhere remotely private. His hands scrabbled at Bond’s thick biceps and dug into the soft material of his suit, then stroked down his rock hard torso to pat at the hip pockets of his trousers to find - “Keys,” he muttered between biting kisses, “Getting the keys, not the gun.” He wasn’t sure why he was trying to reassure Bond until he hooked the key ring in his hand and felt the tension leak from the man’s frame. _Duh. Duh duh duh_. “Let’s get inside, yeah?”

Bond nodded, a slight motion of his head as he sucked a mark into the roll of muscle at the base of Q’s neck. Q, for his part, kept his thigh firmly wedged between the agent’s legs so the man could rut against him as he felt behind him blindly and managed to unlock the door, turning the handle - which wasn’t the smartest idea because they both tumbled backwards as the door opened, sending them sprawling onto the Oriental runner. Q made to kick the door shut again, but Bond _attacked,_ pushing both hands roughly up the hacker’s torso beneath the dress shirt to run calloused fingers over pert nipples, making the young man damned well moan with pleasure. Bond licked into Q’s mouth again, devouring each little gasp and noise that he made as he bucked up into Bond’s hips.

“I’m going to fucking tear you apart, Q.” Bond nipped at his bottom lip and hummed as Q pushed his thigh up against Bond again, trying to give as much as he was getting. Bond rocked his hips down, pushing hard onto Q. “I’m going to ruin you.” _I’m going to destroy you, too,_ he thought bitterly. But then Q latched onto Bond’s neck and bit hard, hard enough to knock him out of his reverie.

“I - I look forward to it, you bastard.” Q pulled at Bond’s jacket. “Take this fucking thing off.”

Bond drew his hands out of Q’s shirt and shed the outer layers of his ensemble, tossing it in the direction of the living area, and Q made short work of the buttons of his shirt. Bond didn’t even bother trying Q’s buttons. He just tore the shirt open, destroying it. Q hissed in a hot flash of anger. “You jackass! That was my good shirt!”

Bond snorted. “Fuck you, I can buy you another one.”

Q dragged himself out of his ruined shirt as Bond shed his, and then their lips met again. Hands roamed and pinched and stroked - Q fumbled with Bond’s belt, muttering under his breath every time they broke for air. Bond finally took pity on him, leaned back on his knees, and took it off, along with his trousers and pants. Q almost went cross-eyed with sudden, all consuming want, and he wriggled out of his already undone trousers and pants, kicking his sad excuse for dress shoes off with the mess, and rose to his knees, dragging his whole torso along Bond’s naked prick. The groan rumbling slowly out of Bond’s mouth sparked something in Q’s mind, maybe something a bit submissive, and he went with it. He licked at Bond’s chin as he pushed their bodies together. “Take me, James. Take me and make me yours.”

A tremor rippled through the man’s muscles, thrilling Q to the bone. “With pleasure.”

Q smiled as seductively as he could and looked up, past Bond to the open door - and saw Alec standing in the hall, a stunning brunette on his arm, and a shocked look on his face. “Oh, _fucking hell_!”

Bond immediately picked up on the change in Q’s tone and had his gun in his hands, twisting at the hip to sight in on - “ _Alec!_ ”

Q growled in dismay and fucking _mortification_ as he scrambled for something to put on, for Christ’s sake, anything will fucking work, a paper bag or potato sack - his hands pulled Bond’s shirt and charcoal suit jacket to him and he quickly put them on as Bond stood up, a cocky smirk on his damnable face.

“I thought you were going to be in Morocco for a while longer.”

Alec, to his credit, kept his eyes focused on Bond, not even giving Q another look, though the hacker was certain he’d seen every BIT of him, fucking hell. “Mission was over earlier than expected. Missed you, figured I’d bring Ida here over to have a bit of fun...but seems something happened while I was gone.”

“Hello, Ida.” Bond smiled and waggled his fingers at the woman, who gave him a long, slow look that started from his eyes and ended at his toes, then curled back up. Then she looked at Q, who finally managed to wrap Bond’s clothing around him. Bond looked down at him, a fire lit behind his ice blue eyes. “What do you think, Evan? Want to add a couple others to our little soiree?”

Q stared up at him. “Alec?”

Alec smiled and finally looked down at him, and Q found a playful little flame playing in his green eyes. “I’m game if you are.”

“You are kidding me.”

Bond suddenly looked worried. “Unless you don’t -”

Q stood up, finding that the shirt, when buttoned, went just low enough to hide his still-hard cock. “Where do you keep your booze? I only do multiple partners when I’ve been drinking.” He couldn’t be too upset at the proceedings, actually; Ida looked to be a fun bed partner. He just wasn’t sure about Alec Trevelyan, whom for all intents and purposes was completely straight. Or so he’d thought.

Bond waved to the kitchen, and Q walked away from them, leaving them to discuss whatever sleeping arrangements they needed - even with a large bed (and Q had caught a glance when he’d been here with James earlier in the night so the agent could change out of his three day old suit and clean up a bit again), with more that three people, sleeping arrangements had to be made, or you’d just end up with a tangle of limbs and that just wasn’t fun - and searched for the alcohol.  As he reached into the right hand cabinet closest to the fridge for the bottle of Stoli, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Alec.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude.”

Q turned around to face Trevelyan, and sighed. “It’s fine. It’s not as if James had planned for this to happen. And it’s obvious that you two - “

Alec lowered his hands to Q’s hips. “Do you want to?”

“No, I think the question is, do you want to?” Q stared up into Trevelyan’s eyes. “I’m a man.”

“So is Bond.”

“But you don’t fuck him -”

“I don’t plan on fucking you, either.” His hands tightened on Q’s hips. “Bond’s laid claim to you. It’s plain as day.”

Q stared at him. Laid claim to me? What? “But...I thought...”

“Don’t think. Drink. I’ll grab the glasses, and we can discuss the idea Ida thought of as soon as she realised that there were going to be three men fucking her tonight.” Alec paused. “Unless you’re gay?”

Q smirked. “Hardly. What’s this plan?”

Alec returned the expression. “Well, it has to do with positions, actually...”

****  
  



End file.
